


Long Time Coming

by InkyElster (IdeenElster)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drifting Makes Them Do It, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 20:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdeenElster/pseuds/InkyElster
Summary: The urge creeps up on Herc, slowly but surely.





	Long Time Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning out my old drafts. I'm trying to get some practice in with present tense so apologies for any mistakes. ^^

Herc doesn't touch his son when  Chuck 's sixteen, after they first drift together.  It’s nothing he wants. 

A year later, he still doesn’t want to, but i t creeps up to him. The urge. The  images his brain presents him with . He catches himself looking, gaze lingering  for too long when Chuck gets out of a shower with only a towel around his waist .

It's not unusual for sexual thoughts to develop between drifting pilots and since family members have a higher chance to be drift compatible... well... it is what it is, but Herc doesn't have to be happy about it. Not when he has to comb and comb and _comb_ through his memories to see if he has ever had feelings for his son _before_. 

He didn't. Chuck had never been more than that,  _his son_ . 

Nevertheless,  Chuck is important to him, his own flesh and blood and the only family, beside his estranged brother, he has left.  When the Kaiju had first invaded their world, he had to make a choice and he chose him .  There is no doubt at all in his mind that he  would do it again, a hundred times over  if he needed . 

Those kind of feelings though, the other kind that make his cock swell when he thinks of Chuck, come slowly. The dreams. The _fantasies._ And Chuck is right there with him, young and wild-eyed and so damn _cocky_.

In the end, while the Kaiju threat prevails, t hey never act on it. Herc knows  that  Chuck wants him to,  just like his son knows what  _he_ wants .  The thing is , Herc won't make the first move, won't take that decision out of his son's hand no matter what.  He isn’t just old enough to be Chuck’s father,  _he literally is his father_ . Of course, no one would care, not in the Shatterdome. These kind of things are considered a small evil to accept, if it means they are all the more effective in killing Kaijus. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to take advantage of Chuck like that, who already acts more tough than he is, prickly and proud with no illusions about his future.

Herc  knows what Chuck is thinking, knows his thoughts the way he knows his own. Important things go unsaid between them, but they don't have to.  _That’s what he likes to tell himself at least._

And  Chuck doesn't do it, come to Herc in the night. His son  may be cocky, arrogant,  but he’s scared, too, scared  of crossing this last line.  Herc is almost too grateful for that. It means he doesn’t have to, either.  It's war and they could die any moment and Herc knows it will be even harder on them when they know what the other feels like, tastes like. 

So, they don't touch at all. 

Herc never pretends to have done right by Chuck. 

 

He ends up regretting it later, once Operation Pitfall comes. The last stand, the  _last chance_ to rid the world of the threat of the Kaiju and if he hadn't broken his blasted arm he would have gone in his son's stead, his son who is only twenty-one. Too young. Way too young. Herc has the better part of his life behind him, while Chuck has his whole life in front of him. Herc would switch places with him in a heartbeat, but Stacker doesn't  give him this choice. His arm is no good and that is that. 

_ There is no other way.  _

So Herc tells his son goodbye in words that aren’t enough and watches him leave with Stacker. His only son.

_He knows he will lose him._ The stakes are too high. Too many Kaijus guard the Rift, but it is what it is. They have a war to win. 

 

At no point in his life did Herc ever regret joining the efforts of the war against the alien invaders, but he starts to while he’s  acting commander.  A father i n charge while Gipsy and Striker head down to the ocean bed. He plays his part, stays professional even when he hears Chuck echo his words back at him. 

_You have a chance, you take it_ .

He can't help but think of all the chances he didn't take, remembers for a split-second Chuck's wide-eyed look one time after a successful drift,  after  a victorious fight, when they had been in the communal showers. Herc could have sank to his knees right then and there but he didn't.  And n either did Chuck. 

Herc had wanted to, in that moment. 

But now is the present. He shakes off the past, it's done and gone. 

 

Herc has tucked the grief deep, to be felt when he’s ready for it, when t hen the unthinkable happens. 

Striker detonates along with  his son and his best friend , fr ying  the sensors, the  _signal_ and Herc doesn't know about the gift  Stacker’s  given  him  until days later when an escape pod washes up on shore. 

_ Chuck is alive _

He’s also  badly injured,  _but alive_ and Herc has to sit down when the message reaches him. It's only Tendo who sees him. There is no one else around. Mako and Raleigh are already on their celebratory victory press tour. They're celebrities.

But it’s like he still makes the same mistakes. It’s always the same excuse.  Herc would have visited his son more often if he hadn't been Marshal. As it is, duty calls him away too often from his son's side,  his son who is trapped in a coma .  The doctors don’t know when he’ll wake.

But  Chuck’s a fighter,  he’s always been .  It takes him weeks, but h e wakes up and he gets better. Despite not being able to visit every single day, Herc gets notified of his progress,  _demands_ he be notified. No one would  dare to  deny him that, as Marshal  or father. 

_ They don’t even know the half of it. _

 

Then, weeks later, there is knock on his door in the middle of the night. 

Chuck's eyes are bloodshot. There had been nothing of that in the reports, but then his son is  practised at not showing his hurts, internal and external except for a hair-trigger temper. "Dad." His voice breaks on the syllable and something in Herc's chest  _twists_ . He knows it's his heart,  nothing else has ever pained him this way . He should have tried harder to visit Chuck every single day, be there for him after what happened. Their minds were still connected when Stacker died.  _Herc should have known._

"Come in,"  Herc says, less gently than he means to, but he’s out of practice. He’s been out of practice for years.

Chuck all but falls into his room, face stormy but movements at once eager and controlled. Herc wishes they could drift right now, so he could know what goes on in Chuck's head.  There are new scars on his son’t face, curtesy of being knocked around in his pod. 

"Can I..." The plea is said quietly,  uncharacteristically  nervously and Herc nods sharply.

"Get undressed,"  he says and sees  Chuck falter at that.  Herc shakes his head sharply, cursing himself.  "Not like that. You're sleeping here tonight,"  he hurries to  add .  It’s the least he can do.

Chuck opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something and closes it again. It's unusual for Chuck not to speak his mind. Herc almost demands of him to tell him, but that's now how they work.  Anyway, they’ve worked on orders for too long. 

Without another word, Chuck undresses and gets into the shirt and shorts Herc hands him, one of his own. Chuck would never admit it aloud but being wrapped in Herc's clothes comforts him. Hell,  Chuck’s damn jacket is one of Herc's old ones, oversized on his boy. He looks like a little kid in it and he looks even younger now, dressed in Herc's things. 

Herc nods towards the bed. "Get in, I'll be right behind you." 

Now there is the cocky smile Herc remembers. "Got paperwork to  do , old man?" Chuck taunts and Herc could kiss him. A bit of the old Chuck is coming through, it calms Herc right down  to his core . They're on the cusp of something. He can feel it and it keeps him  a little  on edge,  but he won’t run . 

Herc nods, once. "Yeah, as a matter of fact,"  he says dryly and watches Chuck’s face fall.

Chuck fingers the hem of the oversized shirt. "Huh, never would've taken you for an office drone." 

That has Herc straightening.  "Remember who you're talking to ranger," Herc says, but it lacks any  of his usual  bite. 

Chuck grins. "I know, dad." 

Herc smiles  back  and Chuck settles into the bed,  right where Herc knew he would .  For a moment he wonders if he shouldn’t just join him, work be damned, but in the end he  turns to, yes, the  files  on his desk. He's got a bloody desk in his room now, for the late-night paperwork that seems to turn up like clockwork. He hates it. He'd rather fight a  dozen  Kaiju s at once , but he is Marshal now and with it he has responsibilities, like putting his signature under... things. 

An hour later he's bored out of his mind and that is when Chuck lets out a soft sound. 

It's been comfortable,  _a comfort_ knowing Chuck to be in his bed, breathing deeply and asleep. But now distressed noises are coming over his lips and Herc abandons the stupid papers and walks over to his son's side. He kneels beside the bed. 

Chuck comes awake with a start, teeth grit against what Herc is pretty sure must have been a scream. His eyes are wild, disoriented. Herc catches his face between his hands, makes Chuck focus on him. "Chuck, look at me. You're safe." 

It only takes a moment until  Chuck focuses and Herc has to admire the speed in which he calms down. They count to three together and then Chuck collapses back into the bed, star ing up at the ceiling. "Finally going to come to bed, old man?"  Chuck asks, voice hoarse as if he’s been screaming after all. 

Herc shakes his head and then stands, aware of his son's eyes on his back as he changes into something more comfortable  to  sleep  in . His body is nothing Chuck has never seen before, but this time it feels different.  Will he  and Chuck ever be able to talk normally?

Probably not. 

"Dad, please." It's softly spoken and Herc's heart is somewhere in his throat when he climbs into bed. Chuck scoots up against the wall. Herc knows from drifting together that he likes it that way, being trapped between the bulk of his father and a wall. It's always been like that. And Herc wants to give him what he needs to be comfortable, to let go of some of the demons haunting him. 

Wordlessly, Chuck turns his back to him. A glance back over his shoulder  has Herc mov ing forward , carefully press ing his chest to his son's back and curls his arms around him. A soft sigh escapes him, or maybe it escapes them both. 

Then they sleep. 

 

Herc  is the first to wake and he promptly  cancels all his appointments for the day and requests not to be disturbed. There is a smidgen of guilt. He's never been the kind of man to shirk his duties, but today Chuck is his priority,  as he should have been weeks ago when he was still in the infirmary . 

When he returns to  his  bed, Chuck is awake, watching him.  Before making the call, Herc had been thinking, lying awake with Chuck in his arms.  And he’s  made a decision which could cost them both. With that in mind, Herc sits down on the edge of the mattress and after some twists and turns he's hovering over Chuck, hands on either side of his son's head. Chuck's face... Herc can't describe it. He's never seen such open longing on  it and Chuck lets out a sigh when Herc finally leans in. 

Their first kiss is soft, almost innocent;  l ips linger ing on each other, applying only the softest of pressure. Then Chuck's lips part underneath his own and it's  _on_ , of course his son is competitive even in  _this_ , kiss quickly turning open-mouthed and breathless. 

After a while Herc  moves away but only so he can latch onto Chuck's neck  instead, forcing Chuck  to  bend his head; offering Herc the line of his throat. It ignites something low in Herc's belly, something primal. He doesn't know when it happened but he's lying between his son's thighs, getting cradled by him and it's the most  _right_ feeling he's ever experienced. And he can't even think of stopping. It's like a tidal wave has swept him away and he's too tired to fight it. 

So, he just...  lets himself  sinks into it. 

Chuck meets him halfway, never pliant. His fingers grab Herc's shoulders, digging into the muscles and making Herc glad his arm has healed a while ago. His son's palms pull down his collar and then his teeth nip at Herc's collarbone. Chuck is rolling up into him and Herc can feel his cock against his belly. It has Herc swallowing around a moan. His son is  _eager_ . Herc wouldn't have  him  any other way. 

"Come on, old man. You're overdressed," Chuck complains  hoarsely.

Herc laughs softly. "Patience is a virtue." 

That has his son snorting. "Yeah, and you don't have it either,"  he quips. Well, Chuck would know, wouldn’t he? He’s been in Herc’s head after all. 

Herc can't help but laugh. He's much more patient than his son is giving him credit for and that's why he goes slow despite Chuck's  needling . He's not about to let himself be bossed around by his kid. Herc thought, in the past, that should they ever fuck it would be rough but strangely enough it's anything but that. There is time. He intends to use it. Maybe he's trying to make up for everything they have lost,  worshi p ping his son's body, the scars he gained during his last battle with the Kaiju. 

Chuck heaves against him and lets out a moan when Herc's palms slide underneath his shirt, to drag along the muscles of his belly and up to his chest, taking the fabric with him until it ’ s pooled underneath Chuck's armpits. "Want your hands lower, bit to the south." 

Herc growls. "I'll put my damn hands where I want them to."

Chuck grins and cants up his hips, lets his cock rub insistently against Herc's bare stomach where his own shirt has ridden up. Any shyness his son may have felt at the beginning is gone by now. They both know Herc wants to touch Chuck's cock. They've seen it in the drift, that and more. Chuck knows everything Herc wants to do to him, including putting him on his knees and stuffing his throat with cock so he can be less of a cocky little shit. Herc palms Chuck roughly through his loose-fitting shorts, wiping away the  smug grin and replacing it with fluttering lashes and a  needy little  moan. 

" _Dad_ ."

It's nothing more than a breath but it makes Herc's own cock jump. More so when Chuck's legs fall open. Herc realizes that he wants to see Chuck like that again, and  _again_ . 

Herc bites a trail over his  Chuck 's chest. His mouth finds a nipple and he nibbles it into hardness, twists the other between thumb and forefinger  to get it to the same state . Chuck's thighs clench around him as he groans and pushes into the touch. Of course, his son likes it a little rougher. Herc keeps it in mind, presses his fingers almost hard enough to bruise into Chuck's flesh. His son curls into him,  panting, as Herc leaves wet trails with his tongue and marks his body. 

"Dad, please." 

"I got you, Chuck," Herc promises. 

Chuck twists under him, rummaging through the night table. Herc has never told him what's inside it, but of course his son has been inside his brain. The tube of lube lands beside them on the mattress. 

Herc hooks his fingers into the fabric of Chuck's shirt and pulls it over his head, follows it up with a kiss that leaves them both breathless. Chuck in turn gets rid of Herc's shirt and this time it's Chuck who initiates the kiss, slides his tongue between Herc's lips to chase his own. Herc cups his son's face, angling them just so. While they kiss, Herc trails a palm down over Chuck's belly, treasure trail tickling his fingertips and then curling into the hair over Chuck's groin. Chuck's cock almost jumps into his hand when he wraps fingers around the shaft and Chuck breaks the kiss to bite his shoulder, muffling a cry. 

"Hurry up, old-"

The rest of the words get bitten off when Herc squeezes down on Chuck's balls. A drop of  pre-cum hits Herc's wrist and he swipes his palm up and over the head of his son's cock, coming away wet. 

"Patience," he chides, as if he doesn't feel like pulling Chuck's shorts just far enough down to press his cock into him. But he promised himself he would go slow, just maybe not as slow as he thought initially, not when Chuck undulates against him, moaning when Herc strokes his cock. 

"Want to come with you inside of me,"  Chuck murmurs.

The words are almost Herc's undoing. Chuck's back hits the mattress again and he lets out a small chuckle. 

"Knew that would get you to hurry up."

Herc frowns at him, momentarily lost for words  before  Chuck's hands land on his chest, mapping out the scars and sliding along the muscles of his belly until he can hook his fingers into the waistband of Herc's shorts. Herc catches them and presses his son's wrists into the pillow on either side of his head. 

There is a flash of anger on Chuck's face. "I'm not a child,  _old man_ ."

"Yeah, thank god you're not. You are a brat though," Herc says. 

Again, Chuck's face twists angrily and Herc unceremoniously pulls down Chuck's shorts and  takes his cock into his mouth . Chuck inhales, cries out and his hands fly down from beside his head to grasp at the short strands of Herc's hair. Chuck's chest is flushed. Herc can feel his own heaving as if he's run a marathon. He's sweaty and so is his son as he slides his lips down, careful to cover his teeth. He hasn't fucked a man in ages, too busy with the war to invest time in the necessary preparations. 

His son tastes tangy,  pre-cum bursting on his tongue as his hips jerk up. Chuck doesn't even have the decency to hold back, control himself not to choke Herc, or maybe it's just lack of experience. Herc knows his son had lovers,  _flings,_ occasionally, has seen it in his mind. But he also knows his son has never fucked someone more than twice, certainly not enough to learn the finer points of love making.  Or that there is even a different between the two.

Herc pins Chuck's hips with an arm over his belly and Chuck lets out a forlorn noise. Then he lets one of his fingers trails between Chuck's cheeks as he takes him deep, rubs the tip of his finger across his taint until he lets out another noise, desperate this time. 

"Come on!"

Chuck curses when Herc takes his hand away. His eyes are bright, chest flushed almost to his navel when he watches Herc open the tube and dribble some of the lube over his hand. 

"You're still overdressed," Chuck  complains . 

Herc doesn't say anything, lets the silence do the talking for him as he wipes his hand between his son's che e k s , getting his skin wet and then lets his fingers push into the secret place  in between. Chuck moans when he presses his fingertips against his hole, roughly circling before Chuck gets his legs up, bending at the knee and Herc pushes  his fingers inside. 

His son is tight. If he's been fucked before it's been a while, just enough that they will both feel it when they're done. Herc doesn't mind the thought of making it impossible for his son to walk without  remembering what happened after they're done. Judging by the expression on Chuck's face and the way he pushes into it, tak ing Herc's fingers quicker than he had planned, he doesn't mind the thought either. 

Herc is suddenly not sure about going slow anymore. He wants to, but god his son is like a vice and eager, too. Chuck rocks his hips down and his hand comes up to dig fingers into the back of Herc's neck, pulling him down or maybe Chuck is pulling himself up but whichever is the case, they meet in the middle, lips clashing against each other as Herc bottoms out. He wishes it was his cock. 

Chuck moans. "More." 

Herc can't help himself. "What's the secret word?"

"More,  _asshole_ ," Chuck bites out. 

Herc curls his fingers, which isn't much of a punishment as he brushes them against Chuck's prostate and makes him moan. "Try again, nicely this time," he says and stops all motion, mak ing Chuck grit his teeth. 

"More,  _please_ ."

And Herc gives it to him, curls his fingers again and scissors them, opening his son up for what's to come. 

When he ’ s done preparing Chuck, he fucks him, sinks into his tight heat while Chuck curls his legs around him. He still can't help but go slow until Chuck digs heels into Herc's back and pulls him close, mak ing him thrust in to the hilt. It's too much. Herc sees the pain flash over his son's face and reaches out to soothe it. His son is like a vice around his cock, just this side of uncomfortable. 

"Told you we should go slow," Herc  murmurs .

"I don't need your reprimands right now." Chuck grits his teeth and Herc strokes fingers against his son's forehead, takes his cock in hand with the other  to stroke him  through it . 

"Just breath through it," Herc  whispers . 

Chuck's mouth falls open, but he doesn't say anything. Gradually, the  tightness around Herc's cock loosens,  if only a bit . 

Their eyes meet. Chuck nods and Herc pulls out slowly, as gently as he's capable. It seems to be enough since Chuck's face relaxes. Herc puts a hand into the hollow of his son's knee and pushes his leg towards his chest, opening him further. Chuck moans when that makes him push deeper, Herc's crotch resting flush against his ass. There is a certain look of wonder on his face, as if he didn't imagine he would ever have this. 

Herc breathes deeply, chokes on a moan when Chuck squeezes down, notices by the second time that he's doing it on purpose. Competitive little  _shit_ . 

Chuck smirks up at him and Herc pulls out, thrust back in roughly,  making Chuck's eyes fall shut as he takes his cock and Herc keeps it up as another appreciative moan falls from his son's lips. 

It doesn't  really  take long  after that  . 

Herc gets a hand around Chuck, pumps once, twice, three times and Chuck tightens around him almost to the point of pain as he spills over his belly, manag ing to streak Herc's as well since they're so closely pressed together. Herc can't last either, not with the way Chuck cries out his release, clamping down on him, hand and ass both. He manages a couple more thrusts into the willing body below him and he's done, coming,  _coming_ . 

His forehead comes to rest on Chuck's shoulder, legs still wrapped around him as he ruts into him. One hand comes up to stroke his hair and Chuck whispers something to him he can't hear over the rushing in his ears. 

Then  Herc collapses in inches, coming to rest on top of Chuck.

For a while, t he silence of the room is only broken by their heaving breaths, then: "Oi, dad you're heavy." 

Herc rolls onto his side, making Chuck wince as he pulls out too fast. He would have liked to stay inside of him, fill him up with his cock and stay there. It's like a dam inside of him has broken, containing all the buried fantasies he's had. But he likes this one coming true the most, them post-coital in a bed. _Alive._ There had even been cuddling.

As if on cue, Chuck gives him a careful look and when Herc awkwardly opens his arms he scoots in close and lays his head on Herc's shoulder. One of his arms comes to rest across Herc's belly. 

"Comfortable, son?" Herc asks  gruffly .  He may need to get the hang of soft again, but he knows Chuck doesn’t care too much about that. 

Chuck lets out a breath, eyes falling shut. "Yeah."

Herc lets his own eyes close, but he doesn't sleep. Chuck's feet press between his calves, rubbing  absent-mindedly against his skin. It's nice. 

 

Chuck is the first to get up a while later. Herc watches him dig through his  dresser, in search of something clean to wear . 

"Do you mind, old man?"  Chuck holds up an old shirt Herc has just gotten back from being washed.  It’s years old and almost threadbare  by now . 

"Don't call me that," Herc admonishes him, but there is no heat behind it. It might as well be a term of endearment by now. He wonders what term of endearment to use for Chuck.  Maybe he’s going to call him ‘ _brat’_ .

"You still need this?" Chuck asks, shaking the shirt.

Herc shakes his head and Chuck pulls it over his head. It's slightly too big on him. Chuck wears his own pants, but under Herc's watchful gaze he only hesitates a moment before grabbing the jacket  Herc’s been wearing lately. Herc watches him. Then he does the same, getting dressed. His son's shirts would be too tight on him. 

They kiss one last time at the door, before they go out to face the day,  _their day,_ because Herc’s not done with Chuck yet and his work has to work a few more hours.


End file.
